


Ways of Being

by needleyecandy



Series: Ways [2]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, Fluff, Intercrural Sex, Light BDSM, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, sex spell, so does Thor sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki might be in love, but he's still Loki.  </p><p>Stand-alone chapters looking at life in Asgard for him and Thor following the end of Ways of Seeing, Ways of Seeming. Most chapters won't require familiarity with that story to enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I write Thorki now, instead of my thesis. More tags will be added as needed, but there won't be anything that takes warnings. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Loki has started and abandoned at least twelve projects today, and it’s not even lunchtime. He wanders their hall, idly charming their suits of armor to life and watching them make out, trying to read, pestering Thor as he tries to work.

“No, Loki,” Thor says firmly. “I just got a huge report on how the crops are doing on Midgard, I’m supposed to figure out where I need to send the rain, and I still can barely read much beyond picture books. So I’m sorry, but I really need to concentrate on this.”

“Thor,” Loki grumbles, bored. Being the god of mischief would be more fun with a less responsible husband.

“Do you want to do this for me, Loki?”

Loki thinks for a minute, looking idly over Thor’s shoulder at the reports with his head tilted, before putting his hand above the thick volume, fingers outstretched. After a moment, he pulls it slowly away, strands of seiðr rising up from the book to follow up. With a quick twist of his fingers, it balls and curls upon itself until it resolves into a globe, displaying all of Midgard before them.

“”The brown bits are thirsty,” Loki explains unnecessarily.

Thor stares. “I spent four hours on page one, and then you just come in and do that?” he says, his voice numb.

“Yes, so send them some rain and let’s have fun. This did not amuse me,” Loki glares.

Thor sighs, shaking his head, but he says nothing, just settles down to his work.

Loki watches, fidgeting, before his interest is caught by the southern part of Midgard, covered in ice. Between the glaciers and Thor’s always-arousing proximity, it sets him to thinking. By the time Thor is done, Loki isn’t bored anymore.

*****

“You want to do what to me?” Thor asks him.

“It’s just temporary,” Loki says. “I think it’ll make the cold easier for you. You might even like it.”

Thor frowns.

“Well, I’m going,” Loki tells him. “You can come along, or you can sit here and be bored.”

“Go ahead, then, do it,” Thor huffs.

Loki grins at him. “This is going to be fun.”

*****

Half an hour later, two blue-skinned, red-eyed figures, small for jotuns, are huddled together in the shadow of a huge ice wall, trying desperately to quiet their laughter. Loki’s snowball has just hit Byleistr full in the face, and the giant is whirling around, trying to find the source of the attack, but his gaze stays firmly above their heads.

“Guards!” shouts Byleistr. “Guards! We’re under attack!”

The guards quickly form ranks as Helblindi and - oh, joy - even Laufey come to stand at the front, ready to face the apparently invisible army.

Thor feels his blood thrilling. It’s not exactly a battle, but it’s close enough bring him that fierce-hot joy, made all the better by having Loki at his side. Thor calls a storm and the snow whips the jotuns in the eyes, blinding them, as he and Loki hurl snowball after snowball.

Thor throws one that hits Laufey in the ear, so hard that it knocks out his equilibrium, and then the entire jotun guard is in disarray as the addled king staggers about, knocking into fighter after fighter as he desperately tries to regain his balance.

Their snow pile is rapidly becoming depleted, so Loki conjures new snowballs to appear in their hands each time they throw one, and their arms are pumping hard, throwing ball after ball, until Laufey calls for a retreat, and the guards, followed by the princes and king, enclose themselves behind an armored door.

They collapse against each other, boneless with laughter. Or _nearly_ boneless. Loki smirks as his hand runs across the throbbing bulge in Thor’s breeches.

“Mmm,” he purrs, eyeing Thor speculatively before he has him crushed back against the ice, their mouths pressed together, hungry, demanding. Their arms wrap around each other, grabbing and tugging, before Thor breaks away from their kiss to run his tongue down Loki’s throat, sucking and licking at the sensitive spot at the bottom of his neck, grinding his hips forward into Loki’s.

Loki impatiently unties their breeches and shoves them out of the way, then spins Thor and shoves him hard against the wall. Thor would have thought that even with the glamor, having his bare cock pressed against a huge piece of ice would be uncomfortable, but instead it merely sends shivers of pleasure through him as Loki coils against his back, teeth sinking into his shoulders and fingers digging into his hips.

“I’m going to open you quickly, Thor,” he warns, and Thor barely has time to nod his agreement before he feels a tingle of seiðr and he is suddenly stretched open, slick and ready to receive Loki, and Loki is slamming into him with dizzying, near-brutal perfection.

After that first entry, Loki slows his pace somewhat, his movements strong and even. Thor gasps his name as he surges his hips backwards, hands against the wall, fingers splayed for traction as they move together, each coaxing the other to higher and higher peaks of pleasure. Loki leans forward, his chest pressed against Thor’s back as his thrusts become short, still driving in to the hilt but pulling back only a few inches before thrusting back in. He braces himself against the ice, fingers entwined with Thor’s.

The sight of their blue fingers together makes Thor’s breath hitch; while they were in the midst of the snowball fight, he hadn’t really been aware of his glamor beyond being glad of the comfort it gave him. Now, though, he is forced to see it, and it might have been strange were it not for the relentless feel of Loki inside him, around him, making absolutely everything perfect.

Loki’s own need builds, coiling up painfully tense inside him, spurred on by Thor’s moans and the way he is convulsing around Loki’s cock. He pulls Thor back and guides one of his hands downwards, wraps it around Thor’s cock, and guides it into motion. It takes Thor a moment to realize what Loki wants, and then he works himself, his hand trapped between his own smooth skin under his palm and Loki’s, only slightly rougher, against the back. His pace is harsh, frantic, drawing forth the climax that is lurking, so close now.

Loki comes first, sobbing into Thor’s shoulder as he freezes, rigid, spilling his pleasure. A moment later Thor follows. Loki is still holding on to Thor’s cock, and he moves it carefully as Thor’s body spasms with his climax.

Loki presses a kiss into the shoulder he had been biting, and quickly rearranges and fastens their clothing into place. They step back slightly, giving him room to cast the shadow-door, and Thor sees why Loki had been manipulating his cock as he came.

Right there across the ice, right where the morning sun would catch it for the whole castle to see, in slightly drippy letters.

 

L O K I

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Everybody Loves Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor only has a week after their honeymoon to come up with the perfect thing for Loki's birthday. 
> 
> Pure fluff.

Thor sinks happily into the bath, feeling the warm water ease his sore muscles. He wouldn’t be sore, of course, if Loki had carried his own luggage, but he had flirted so outrageously, batting his eyelashes and peering seductively over his shoulder, that Thor could only laugh at the blatant manipulation. Well, he could only laugh and pick up Loki’s bags. Their honeymoon had been three weeks of pure delight, but he was glad to be home, now, luxuriating in the still mind-bogglingly huge tub. He supposes that one day he’ll get used to it, but that day will be a long time coming.

Loki joins him a moment later, first dipping a careful toe into the water to make sure it isn’t too hot; even with his glamor, he is more sensitive to heat than are most people. He smiles, satisfied, and relaxes next to Thor, resting his head on the broad shoulder. Thor puts his arm around Loki, wincing just the tiniest bit, but Loki’s sharp eyes catch it.

“You’re not sore from carrying my tiny little bags, are you?” he asks.

“I am slightly sore from carrying your six trunks full of rocks for eighteen miles, yes,” Thor clarifies. “I still don’t see why you needed to collect quite so many.”

“They’re beautiful!” Loki protested.

“They’re dull grey,” Thor answers.

Loki pauses a moment. “They’re charming souvenirs of our honeymoon?”

“They look exactly like the rocks outside our bedroom window.”

“Hmm.  I wanted to get you sore so I could give you an unforgettable rubdown in apology?”

Thor grins. “Finally, an answer I can believe.” He plants a noisy kiss in Loki’s hair. “Let’s relax here a while first, though?”

Loki makes a small, happy sound and snuggles against him.

*****

Thor groans in bliss as he is melted bonelessly into the smooth wooden bench of their bathchamber. He had expected the ‘unforgettable rubdown’ to involve more bodily fluids at some point or other, but no, Loki had simply massaged him for hours, coaxing away every tiny ache and each bit of tension. His hands had felt exquisite as they started with long, smooth strokes, before growing firm and focused, pressing deeper into his muscles, and finally ending the way he had begun.

Loki eases Thor’s legs a little more together, making space to sit down next to him on the bench. He leans over and drops a gentle kiss on Thor’s lower back.

“Did you like that, darling?” he asks.

Thor groans again. “That was the most… I don’t know what, Loki. Definitely worth hauling around some rocks. I’m in _your_  debt, now, I think,” he says, catching himself just too late as he realizes what he has said.

“Oh, good!” Loki says brightly. “I’ll have to think of something. I’ll let you know later.”

*****

There’s another reason Thor is glad to be home from their honeymoon, though it’s one he can’t tell Loki. Their long trip has given him only a week to find a gift for Loki’s birthday, and he wants to find the perfect thing. His original plan, to fill a little book with words of love, did not work out so well, as he spilled his entire bottle of ink over the book on the second day of writing, and he hasn’t got time, now, to do another. Worse, there are no more markets in town before Loki’s birthday is past.

He spends two days wandering aimlessly, lost in thought. Then, mortifyingly, he walks right into Frigga, nearly knocking her over. Despite her warmth and kindness, he is still in such awe of her that he can barely stammer out his apologies.

She finally interrupts him, afraid she’s going to miss lunch.

“Thor, my dear, why don’t you tell me what has you so distracted? Perhaps I can help.”

He sighs. “Loki’s birthday is this coming Odinsday, and I have no idea what to get him.”

She smiles. She knows well the mood in Asgard, and she has spent more time watching Loki than he knows. “I think I may have an idea…” she takes his arm and steers them towards the family dining room, their heads bent together as she whispers to him. He listens, thinks a moment. Then he shakes his head, no, not quite that, but she has given him another idea. The perfect idea. By the time Thor takes his leave of her, he is bursting with glee.

That afternoon, Loki receives a summons from the queen, requesting his assistance with a complex piece of seiðr she wants to work that night.

“You don’t mind, do you, Thor?” he asks. “I feel badly, leaving you alone so soon after we’re back.”

“Don’t worry, Loki, you must go,” he assures him. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to stay busy. Perhaps I will visit the tavern in the town.”

Loki smiles. He is glad that Thor feels that their coffers are truly theirs, that he is no longer asking before taking money. “That is a wonderful idea,” he says.

The minute Loki is out the door, Thor is filling his pockets and hurrying to the sparring ring, hoping to find one of his new friends. Volstagg, it seems, is at home with his family, but Hogun and Fandral are still there. When they hear Thor’s plan, they bathe and dress quickly, and then the three of them hurry into town together. There is only one tavern in town, but Thor wants to make sure they talk to as many people as possible, and he only has three nights.

*****

Frigga does her part perfectly. Loki is kept busy every night that Thor goes out. Volstagg joins them for the next two days, once he hears about the plan, assuring them that his wife would kill him if he didn’t do his bit to help with this.

And then it is the morning of Loki’s birthday. Thor gives him a very lively good morning, leaving them both sweaty and exhausted.

“That was a very nice beginning to my birthday, Thor,” Loki says, staring at him pointedly.

Thor pretends not to notice. He continues to ignore the stares and hints throughout the day (though it is rather harder to ignore when Loki starts digging his pointy elbow into Thor’s ribs, he thinks that he’s managed to pull it off).

At the end of a romantic dinner on their balcony, Thor takes Loki’s hand. “I know I’m not one for words,” he begins awkwardly. “But… well, your birthday makes me think of how glad I am of you, how much I love you. And thinking of how I fell in love with you last summer, those days when we would swim and then stop at the public house and talk. So, if you are willing, I was hoping you might join me at one tonight?”

_Please, please_ , he thinks to himself. _I really don’t want to ruin your first birthday with me_.

Loki smiles and stands up. “That sounds lovely, Thor,” he says. “Just let me put some clothes on and I’ll be ready to go.”

*****

Loki notices, as they approach the town, that it seems strangely bustling for a day without a market, the streets full of people. Thor just smiles happily at Loki as they hold hands, plunging into the crowd. They’ve only take a few steps when something is pressed into Loki’s hands. He looks down to see it is an envelope. He’s about to open it when three more are piled into his hands. Loki whirls around, trying to see who they came from, but the people are milling about so much that it is impossible to guess. Thor just smiles and tugs on his arm.

They slowly wind their way through the crowds, Loki being piled with more and more envelopes until he is reduced to walking with his arms loaded with them. He tries to demand information from Thor, but the dratted man just smiles and acts like he can’t hear over the noise of all the people.

Finally, they make their way to the tavern. It’s got a sizeable crowd, but it’s quieter here, and Loki hisses at Thor as they make their way to a pair of open seats.

“Thor! What in the world is going on here?”

“We’re going out for a drink, Loki, don’t you remember?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” he snapped. “What is all this?” He hefted his arms, envelopes spilling to the ground around him.

Thor opens his mouth, but suddenly Fandral is there, smiling and clapping Loki on the back and wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a satchel, before fading back into the crowd.

“And what was _that_?” Loki demanded.

“ _That_ was Fandral, Loki, you remember him,” Thor said reproachfully, taking handfuls of letters and shoving them into the bag.

Loki keeps asking questions as the tavern keeper places beers in front of them, asking questions as they drink, asking questions as they walk home. Thor dodges them all.

Back in their hall, as the door shuts behind them, Loki slams Thor against the wall, his forearm pressed against his throat.

“Is this a joke to you?” he hisses. “What - is - going - on?”

Thor’s alarmed face softens. “Open one,” he says.

Loki glares at him, but lets go. He takes an envelope from the bag and reads the letter inside. Thor watches the changes wash over his face, from pained anger, to puzzlement, to something raw. He opens letter after letter. Finally he looks up at Thor.

“You told me that the people love me for bringing about the end of the war, that they know you only did it for selfish reasons. But the thing is, Loki, they don’t care why.”

And they didn’t. Letter after letter had been words of thanks. Merchants whose trade has already grown so much, just in one month, they can afford to send their children to school. Farmers excited at the prospect of hearty yields now that they had a god dedicated to the storms. Children, not really understanding the war but knowing that their parents were more relaxed and happy than they had ever seen before.

“This was your idea?” Loki asks him, voice catching slightly.

“It was. Frigga suggested a surprise party, but I wasn’t sure you would like that. This seemed better.”

Loki kisses him. “Nothing could possibly have been more perfect.”

 

 


	3. Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor catches the eye of someone new at court. Loki makes it clear that he's not available.

On Midsummer’s Day, a procession arrives. The daughter of one of Odin’s duces has reached the age of eligibility, and while her parents are not eager to see her wed, they understand her desire to see Asgard, after a lifetime spent on Thiaxa. It might be part of the realm of Asgard, but it is still a world in itself, a barren one where a girl longing for adventures will find little excitement.

Thor is almost as eager to see the procession as Ulfra is to be in it. Loki has no such interest in seeing Forseti and his family; the feast this evening will be soon enough. The day is too beautiful to waste on watching the Dux’s troops perform their drills, and he is well aware that Thor will better enjoy it if he attends with some of his more martially-inclined friends. So Loki gives him a kiss, tells him to have fun, and takes off to have some quality raptor-time.

He decides to be a hawk, today, wanting the speed and maneuverability of a smaller bird rather than the slightly stiffer power of a larger one. And what joy it is to ride the air currents; to fold his wings and dive towards the ground, pulling up at the last second; to watch the mice scurrying at the sound of his screams. It is with reluctance that he returns home, the setting sun letting him know that it is time to prepare for the feast.

He takes his own form in the great hall, hoping to catch sight of Thor. He doesn’t, but Volstagg sees him.

“Loki!” he hails. “Have you seen the Lady Ulfra yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” he says, a little confused at the tone of Volstagg’s voice. “I thought the feast would be soon enough.”

“Well, she has seen Thor,” Volstagg says, giving Loki a significant look.

Loki’s eyes narrow. “I thank you,” he says, before charging off.

*****

Thor is sitting at his desk, trying to get at least a little something accomplished  - the Midgardian weather reports are never-ending - when Loki stalks into the room.

“Loki!” he says happily. “I did not expect to see you bef-”

He cuts himself off when Loki grabs the quill out of his hand and throws it across the room, and then flings one leg over Thor’s and sits in his lap, pressing their lips together hard. Thor might not be sure exactly what would make Loki's desire so urgent as to ruin a quill, but he is sure that it is more enjoyable than weather analysis, so he kisses back, work easily forgotten.

At first it’s confusing, the way Loki kisses him so passionately for a minute or two and then leans back, looking intently at Thor’s face for a moment before kissing him again. When he continues, though, Thor’s confusion gives way to nervousness. Is there something wrong with his teeth? His nose? He tries to ask, but Loki just hushes him impatiently, nibbling and sucking at his lips. Thor finally manages to interrupt, pointing out that the feast begins in less than an hour. Loki looks at his face another moment.

“That’ll have to do, then,” he mutters, before tugging Thor out of his chair and down to the floor, efficiently opening Thor’s breeches and kneeling between his legs. All worries about the time are lost as Loki runs his tongue up the underside of his cock, circles the head, taunts the delicate frenulum. He takes Thor into his mouth, sucking on the head and working the shaft with fierce, demanding hands. Thor arches his back helplessly, moaning and tossing his head as his need grows, and Loki is doing such wickedly delicious things with his lips that Thor can barely stand it, feels like his skin will explode with the intensity.

Loki watches as Thor gets closer and closer, feeling a savage triumph as he watches his gorgeous husband coming undone before him. He knows exactly how he will finish this; he finds it difficult, and doesn’t do it often, but if there was ever the right time, this is it. When Thor’s climax is imminent, Loki reaches up and grabs a handful of Thor’s hair, tugging his head up and forward, until their eyes meet. Thor watches as his cock disappears into Loki’s mouth, until his lips are pressed into the blond patch at the base, watches as Loki stares at him heatedly as he moves up and down, barely an inch, just enough for the feel of it.  

The sight and the sensation together are too much, and Thor can’t last, can barely choke out a warning to Loki, who just hums and sucks harder in response, and that’s it, Thor is bucking and gasping and Loki is still holding on to his hair, still forcing their gazes together as Thor spills, hot and incessant, down Loki’s throat.

When the last pulses of his pleasure have finished, Loki eases Thor’s head down and moves up to lay next to him. Thor can’t really move, not just yet, but through the haze of bliss he manages to throw one arm over Loki. He’s half asleep when the chime of the clock tells them they’re late, and Loki quickly redresses Thor and pulls him up and to the feast hall.

*****

It turns out that before the feast, there is time for the guests to mingle, for friends to greet each other and for the new arrivals to be introduced to their new society. This fits perfectly with Loki’s plans, and he brightens as he watches Ulfra, one hand on Fandral’s arm, as she whispers to him and points across the room to Thor. Fandral looks less than entirely thrilled, but he escorts her over to them and begins to provide the appropriate introductions. Loki likes the fact that, even though he doesn’t use his title of prince, he still outranks Thor. It means he is always introduced first.

Which means he gets to say things like this.

“My lady, what a true pleasure it is to meet you. Please let me introduce my husband Thor.” He smiles, gracious in his triumph, though his eyes are sharp.

His smile broadens as she turns to Thor, takes in the sex-messed hair, the pleasure-blurred eyes, the kiss-swollen lips. Her countenance is well-schooled, Loki must give her that. He is sure he is the only one of them to notice the way her face falls, ever so slightly.

She greets them tersely and tells Fandral that she would like some mead.

*****

The next day, Volstagg hears a knock on the door. A moment later, Gunnhilde arrives holding a box for him. It is a pie, and was delivered with a brief note.

_Thank you-_

_Loki_

*****

The day after that, there is another knock. This time Gunnhilde summons him to the door to help the delivery boy with his parcels. Ten pies, today. And another note.

_Thank you very much indeed-_

_Thor_

 

 


	4. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hot weather reminds Loki of something he'd rather forget.

Their room is muggy; it has been hot for weeks, but until tonight, dusk had always brought cool relief. Thor had tried calling a storm, but the rain brought only humidity rather than comfort.

Thor wakes up to find Loki thrashing and screaming in his sleep. He slides quickly over to gather him up in his arms and soothe him to peace, but at his hot touch Loki screams louder. He shakes his shoulder, jolting him awake.

Loki comes to with a start, eyes huge and terrified. Thor starts to embrace him, but he jerks away with a gasp. Thor looks at him, hesitant.

“Loki?” he asks.

Loki tries to talk, his breath coming in shuddering gulps.

“ I was trapped in a fire... a dream, I think it’s the heat...”

Thor feels like his heart might break any second. Because Loki knows only too well what it is to be trapped in a fire. It was the cost of Thor’s freedom. So Thor doesn’t touch him, keeps his hot skin away from the trembling figure.

“It’s all right, now, Loki, you’re safe,” he soothes. “I’ll be back in just a minute, all right?”

Loki nods, still fighting to control his breathing.

Thor goes quickly to their bath chamber and turns on the cold faucet at full blast. He thinks a moment and adds a small amount of a mint-scented oil to float across the surface. Leaving it running, he goes back to their bedroom.

“I have a cold bath running for you. Can you get up? I’d rather not carry you, I’m too hot,” he says gently.

Loki nods and pads softly after him. He sinks quickly into the filling tub with a sigh of relief. It is strange, to Thor, to see someone _stop_  shaking when they get into an icy tub, but is exactly what Loki needs. It’s too cold for Thor to join him, so he sits on the side and lets his hands dangle in the water until they have taken a chill. He rises briefly to turn off the tap before settling down on the edge behind Loki.

“Can I touch you now? My hands are cold,” he asks.

Loki nods, giving a little hum as Thor’s hands gently work the tense muscles in his shoulders, stroke his hair lovingly. He waits until Loki feels relaxed before speaking.

“Are you all right by yourself if I go do something?”

“Not long?” Loki raises anxious eyes to him.

Thor shakes his head. “Just a few minutes.”

He goes first to their small library, where he finds the “Welcome to Asgard!” packet that Frigga had kindly assembled for them, flipping through until he finds what he wants. Then he just has to shove some clothes and necessities into a bag before he returns to Loki.

Loki’s eyes widen as Thor comes back laden with luggage. Thor sits back down and holds open a pamphlet for Loki to look at. The front has a picture of a snow-covered castle, perched on a mountaintop and surrounded by a thick sleeping forest.

“It’s an inn,” Thor says. “When you’re done soaking, I thought we could go away until this heat wave breaks.”

Loki reaches up, puts an icy hand on Thor’s cheek.

“I’d like that,” Loki says.

  



	5. Something special, just for us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Sigynthefaithful, who called them both sweet potatoes.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Yes, Thor, yes… oh, you feel so tight, darling, so hot,” Loki gasps as he drives into Thor. Thor is bent double over the desk, which is groaning precariously under the combined assault of his weight and Loki’s thrusts. He barely notices, though, not with the way the delirious pleasure is boiling through him, every nerve alive with anticipation. Thor groans as Loki’s words push him over the brink, until he soars, explodes, a firework of ecstasy, only dimly aware of Loki’s own climax, the final, rhythmless thrusts before he stiffens over Thor’s back with his own glorious release.

They collapse together onto the thick rug in front of the fireplace, shuddering breaths slowly calming back to normal. Thor’s face slowly takes on a speculative look, making Loki suspicious.

“You look thoughtful, Thor.”

“Do I?” he asks. “I guess I was just thinking about how nice this is,” he continues, taking Loki’s cock in his hand.

Loki has his doubts, but he also has his pride, which ultimately wins out. His cock really is very nice.

*****

Thor had, indeed, been thinking about how nice Loki’s cock was, but that wasn’t all he had been thinking about. He likes it when Loki calls him _darling_ , even if the circumstances are specific and limited. Limited to sex, pretty much. He wants something to call Loki, too. He just has to think what.

*****

After considerable thought, he finally knows what he wants to try first. Then it’s just a matter of waiting until Loki wants Thor on top; it seems safest, Thor thinks, if Loki doesn’t care for his new nickname.

The next week passes as though Loki knows exactly what Thor is planning. He takes Thor on his back, on his stomach, on his knees, against the wall, over their balcony railing (that one only after he agreed to cloak them in invisibility - they still got some curious looks from below, as Thor hadn’t thought to insist on a cloak of silence). And finally, finally, he lays on his back and gestures Thor atop him. His grumbling about how  _it’s about time Thor does some of the work for once_  is cut off abruptly as Thor sinks down upon him.

Thor makes small circles with his hips, pivoting and squeezing as he runs his hands over Loki’s torso, loving the way he can feel the smooth muscles tense in response to his movements. Loki’s hands are busier, grasping at Thor’s thighs, caressing his cock, pinching his nipples. Thor waits until Loki’s breaths turn into moans, until his careful motions turn into lascivious wiggling, before he leans forward to bite and kiss at the slender throat. It shifts him upwards and gives Loki to space to thrust deliciously upwards, for them to both savor the heady drag as he moves in and out.

“That feels amazing, cookie,” Thor moans into Loki’s neck.

Loki stops cold. “What did you call me?”

At least he sounds incredulous rather than angry. “Loki… Loki,” Thor gasps, hoping Loki will believe it.

“Oh. All right,” Loki says, placated. He picks up where he left off, and all Thor’s thoughts of plotting are gone.

*****

Thor waits until Loki is busy at work with a complex new piece of seiðr.  He is thrilled when Loki is so engrossed that he works right through lunch; it suits his cover story perfectly.

He pops his head in the door. "Cheesecake?" he says.

Loki whirls around, his eyes full of fire. "Did you just call me cheesecake?" he growls.

"No, no! Of course not," Thor lies. "I said 'it's tea break.' You've worked nine hours without a bite to eat. Come have something." He holds up a tea pot and a plate of cucumber sandwiches.

*****

Thor scatters clover seed on the ground outside their window, and it grows quickly under his tender care. Each morning he looks out the window, checking his new clover patch. After nearly a month, in which Loki grows more and more suspicious, he sees a little rabbit family, happily munching on the sweet flowers.

“Honey bun!” Thor calls to Loki.

“What?!?” Loki says. His half-awake voice is suspiciously sharp.  Drat.

“I said _bunny fun_! Look!” He points out the window. Loki drags himself look out. They really are cute, with their wiggly pink noses and fluffy white tails, but Thor mustn’t be encouraged. He’d have half the wildlife of Asgard eating the flower gardens if he got the chance.

*****

“Sweet potato?” Thor says.

“Did you just call me sweet potato?” Loki asks, suspicious.

“What? Oh, no. Of course not. I thought you might like me to refill your plate.”

Loki takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Thor. Why do you keep calling me foods?”

Thor flares his eyes open wide. He is terrible at pretending to look innocent. “I don’t-”

“You do! You are! Explain yourself.”

“I like food,” Thor says, chastened. “And it’s not just food, it’s sweet things. Like you.”

Loki isn’t feeling - or looking - particularly sweet right now. His voice is sweet, though. Dangerously sweet. “And why, may I ask, are you calling me after _sweet foods_?”

“You call me darling. I want something to call you, too. Everybody calls you Loki. I want a special name that’s just for us.”

Oh. Loki could hardly argue with that. “All right,” he says warily. “But I get final approval.”

*****

“Sweet cheeks?” Thor suggests hopefully. He’s certainly got a strong argument for this one, seeing as how his face is currently buried between them, so he’s in a position to know.

“No, Thor!”

*****

“Cupcake?”

Loki doesn’t answer. He just narrows his eyes dangerously.

*****

Thor is sprawled on his back, moving helplessly beneath Loki’s hands and tongue. Loki has spent the past hour touching and licking him _everywhere_  except his cock, until he feels like he might explode any second. That spot just beneath his ear. His nipples. His wrists, where the pulse flutters desperately. The delicate skin of his inner thighs.

He has spent most of the hour begging and moaning, so his sounds barely change when Loki finally takes him in his mouth, only growing louder and more desperate. If he had any coherent thought left, he might be embarrassed at how quickly Loki is able to draw out his pleasure, but thought is long gone.

His words and his climax spill forth at the same moment. “Loki… you have the…” he gasps. He can’t finish his sentence before his body is bucking too intensely to talk, but he remembers what he was going to say. And he realizes that it’s not just what Loki _has_. It’s what Loki _is_.

Loki crawls back up the bed and curls up next to Thor. Thor tangles the fingers of their hands together. “Thank you, sweetest,” he says.

Loki smiles.

  



	6. Six Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor had suggested it teasingly, but it really was a good idea.

Morning’s pink fingers reach between the curtains and crawl softly across their pillow. Thor is already awake. He leans up on one elbow to watch Loki’s sleeping face as the room slowly lightens. Loki sighs softly in his dream, and Thor feels a swell of tenderness. Surely it is only his godhood that lets him survive such love. His mortal heart would have ruptured from this fullness.

Next week they will have been married for six months. It is a good anniversary, but one for a public event. Today is a private anniversary that only he and Loki know. Six months ago, almost at this time of morning, was when Loki first told Thor that he loved him and wanted to marry him.

 

Well, no, not quite. He had told Thor that he wanted to marry him, then _hinted_ that he loved him. Thor had to ask him, flat-out, before he actually said it. And before saying that he wanted to marry Thor, he had done his whole _I’m-Loki-and-when-someone-makes-me-feel-feelings-it-annoys-me_  thing and taken it out on Thor by pinching him on the arm. Thor had learned, by that point, that glares and pinches and sharp tongues all meant that Loki was anxious about opening his heart, so the pinched arm only made him happy. Happy that Loki was willing to risk his heart with Thor after living through so many years of unkindnesses on Jotunheim.

How had he cheered Loki out of his fears, that time? Ah, yes. He had teased, suggesting that Loki secretly wanted to take him on a picnic. _A romantic picnic, with little sandwiches, and strawberries and cream, and after we ate you’d pick wildflowers and weave them into my hair_ , he’d said. The suggestion had earned him another pinch.

Loki wakes up and turns his head to look sleepily at Thor, who presses a soft kiss to his forehead and smiles at him.

Thor knows exactly what he wants to do today.

*****

Thor sends a page to the stables to ask that a pair of horses be readied for them in two hours from now. He stops in the kitchen to request a basket with a few particular things in it before making his way to Fensalir to request an audience with the Queen. As he walks, he can’t help grinning, thinking about how he had left their room.

_“Why are you getting up so early, Thor? It makes me feel like I should get up too. It’s very annoying of you, and I wanted to enjoy your mouth,” Loki had said._

_Thor had knelt by the bed and kissed him before answering. “You will. But there are some things I must do this morning.”_

_He got out the door just in time to avoid the shoe that Loki threw at his head._

Frigga is engaged, but one of her ladies is able to tell Thor exactly what he needs to know. “Ride due west until you see a broad oak that has been struck by lightning, then turn north-west and ride perhaps five minutes more. You’ll know it when you see it.”

*****

“Thor, I will ask you once more, where are we going?” Loki can’t decide whether he is more irritated or suspicious. The gorgeous gold lump just keeps saying that he’ll know it when they get there.

“Oh, you’re done asking me? Thank you. I am pleased to hear it,” Thor answers politely.

Thor has to amend his earlier thought. Loki glares when he is annoyed at feeling vulnerable,  _and_  when he is just plain feeling annoyed. If he knew how utterly delicious he looked when he did it, his eyes narrowing, heavy lashes dusting across alabaster cheeks… well, Thor didn’t want to find out. It might result in less glares and more pinching. Loki had very bony fingers when he wanted to wield them for such things.

Loki rolls his eyes. Thor is so utterly infuriating at times. Loki wonders if he has any idea how obnoxiously luscious he looks when he grins so happily. Probably; he is probably doing it on purpose. And Loki is _still_  waiting to enjoy his mouth. It's almost more annoying than he can stand. It's a good thing for both of them that Loki is such a patient and relaxed person. Someone without his mild character would have snapped by now.

*****  
Thor isn’t quite sure how to tell Loki that he thinks they ought to turn back. He must have missed the tree somehow; it feels like they’ve been riding for hours. So he falls quiet as they ride along, trying to think up a good excuse; a few times there had been a good idea on the tip of his tongue, but he kept losing them before having a chance to give them voice. Then, just as one was taking solid shape, he sees the tree. It is massive and twisted, with a huge burn scar streaking down the bark. He throws a confident look at Loki as he clicks his tongue at his horse, turning its path more to the north.

It is indeed barely five minutes more before Thor knows it when he sees it. They come through a thick border of trees, their horses picking a slow, careful path, and then they are in a broad, sunny field carpeted with a riot of colors. The plants themselves are a thousand shades of green, every shade from a young golden green to a somber dark tone, and every possible one in between. And atop their stems, there bob and dance purple flowers, their long, narrow necks speckled with dark red, and cheerful white daisies, and bright yellow flowers just waiting to learn if Loki loved butter.

Their horses are as eager to eat as Thor is, so they don’t bother to tie them to a tree. They stand nearly still where they are left after their loads climb off, busy grazing on the sweeter shoots. Thor lifts off the hamper and spreads out the blanket that was tucked on top, and then opens it at sets out the spread that the cooks had hurriedly assembled for them.

There are, as he had requested, little sandwiches. He had not expected a variety, but the cooks had taken pity on his slightly nervous demeanor (the hurled shoe had made him a little anxious) and made four different kinds. Thor finds cucumber, and watercress, one with thin slices of meat and a red peppery thing he doesn't know, and a creamy egg spread. And, of course, a big basket of strawberries and a flask of chilled cream. Finally, the cooks had included a bottle of wine and a bottle of sweet grape juice, charmed to fizz when it was poured. Fizzing drinks are still a delightful novelty for Thor, and he is beyond pleased to find it with their lunch.

Loki realized, the moment their horses turned towards this field, exactly what Thor was thinking. He had seen this meadow spread out like a patchwork quilt, blazing with color, as he soared above the fields of Asgard in the shape of a bird. And he remembers every word of their conversation that morning six months ago, just as well as Thor does.

_Do you love me, Loki? Thor had asked._

_I love you, he had answered._

He had opened his heart, kept shielded for long centuries, and it had been all right. Better than that. That whole morning was one warm, soft memory. And he realizes that that is what Thor wants for today, as well. So as he watches Thor hovering over the basket, pulling out plate after plate of food, he stands beside him, running his fingers gently through the glowing blond hair.

As they eat, they talk about small things - how lovely these flowers are, how good the sandwiches taste - more interested in simply watching each other enjoy the sun and the breeze. Asgard had always been a fertile, bountiful place, but since Odin had given Thor the responsibility of the weather, it had been transformed. Asgard, this field, each unique plant. It had all thrived under Thor’s tender, devoted care. Just like Loki’s heart. So when they finish, the last sweet strawberries just a lingering memory on their tongues, Loki pats his lap. “Lay down,” he says.

Thor looks at him quizzically, but he stretches out on the warm grass, his head pillowed on Loki’s thighs. Loki reaches out his long arms, collecting all the different colors of flowers before setting to work. Thor relaxes, watching Loki’s face as he braids the long stems into the bright locks. Loki looks so perfectly beautiful, rich green eyes shining, black hair sparkling in the sun, gorgeously chiseled features. All bent over Thor, intent on doing something to make Thor happy. Showing that he had remembered Thor’s lightly teasing words, that this private anniversary is just as rich a day for him.

When Loki finishes, Thor rolls onto his stomach and eases Loki’s breeches open. His cock is soft, and it makes Thor feel tender, somehow, protective. He kisses it gently, lovingly. It begins to stir under his attention, and he takes it carefully in his mouth, savoring the way it swells beneath his lips. He feels Loki move beneath him, and at first he thinks that he is shifting to make himself more comfortable, but then he feels Loki’s hands on his head again, braided more flowers into the unadorned back.

Loki forces his rising need to the back of his mind as he concentrates on finishing the flower braids, but once they are done, he rests back on his palms and lets his thoughts be swept away by Thor’s ministrations. The waves of pleasure grow, threatening to overwhelm him, until he is bucking upwards, watching the flowers dancing with each of his helpless thrusts as he spills into Thor’s waiting, welcoming mouth.

It is late afternoon as they ride back to Gladheim, and the flowers in Thor’s hair are beginning to wilt. Loki can see them, but Thor can’t, not until the first stem grows too limp to stay in its braid and slips out into Thor’s lap. Loki watches Thor’s shoulders sink lower as one after another of the drooping blossoms slip away. “Wait a moment, Thor,” Loki says, drawing their horses close. He leans over and carefully tugs each of the flowers loose and drapes them carefully over his saddle before clicking to his horse to continue. They ride home in companionable silence.

Loki carries the flowers, a pathetic bouquet, as they leave the stables. But when Thor turns to go indoors, Loki takes his hand, twining their fingers together, and leads him around the outside of the palace. It is a long walk, with all the branching wings that grow from the main hall to be circled, but finally they are in the garden outside their bedroom. Loki lets go of Thor’s hand, then, and cups his palms together, the sad blooms cradled within.

Thor watches as he leans over and breathes on them, concentration heavy in his eyes. It takes a moment for anything to happen, but then the stems begin to regain their strength, the sagging petals perking back up. Loki breathes again, and the stems begin to grow roots, tiny tangled floss dangling freely. He kneels at the edge of a flowerbed and make little holes with his fingers, tucking each new plant into its new home.

Thor’s heart swells as he watches the careful hands tending each precious flower. Loki rarely speaks about his feelings. He has only told Thor once that he loved him. Only once with words. Every day, though, every single day for the past six months he has done something to make Thor know it.

Loki stands and brushes his hands off on his breeches before taking Thor’s hand again. “We’ll look after them together,” he says.

  
  
  



	7. Third in Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since Loki's dominated Thor. Thor has to learn to ask for what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get insomnia, you get porn. Gotta keep myself busy somehow.

Of course Thor is happy with his life. He has more than he ever dreamed was possible; he is a god, and of a primeval force, no less; he has a wonderful home in Gladsheim, and likeable new friends; and by far the best of all, he is married to his friend and love, Loki.

But there is one thing about his old life, some memories of Loki before he even knew who he was, that give him a sense of longing.

Loki sees Thor looking dejected, but he does not know how to discuss such things. He never had anyone, before Thor, that he could really talk to; it made him skilled at lies, but he has no words for truths. So talking now, even to Thor, takes planning and preparation that he does not always know how to do. He tries to show Thor extra kindness, but does not know if he succeeds even at this. It is just too foreign, for all his good intentions.

*****

One evening, as they are dressing for dinner in the feast hall, Thor interrupts Loki as he is pulling on his trousers.

“Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“Might you wear these trousers, instead? If you would be so kind,” Thor asks him hesitantly. He holds up a pair of dark green breeches, the outseams completely lined with grommets, which are loosely laced together with a soft black ribbon. They have hung in Loki’s wardrobe unworn for months now.

Loki looks at the clock. These take a while to put on, which is why he wears them so seldom, but there is plenty of time to prepare for this evening’s meal. He reaches out for them.

“All right,” he answers. He hadn’t realized that Thor likes them in particular, though it makes sense enough now that he thinks about it. The laces let them be worn extra tight, and little glimpses of thigh tend to peek through when he sits. It’s rare enough that Thor asks Loki to do something, and it usually results in something else that Loki enjoys, so he’s happy enough to go along with it. He puts on the trousers, and wears them to dinner.

Thor himself is wearing a long tunic, and one that is looser than he usually chooses. A careful brush of Loki’s hand in his lap reveals why he chose it. His erection is stiff and throbbing under Loki’s quick fingers, and Loki can hear his breathing pick up, almost hear the blood pounding in his veins.

Thor can barely take his eyes off Loki the whole night. Off Loki’s legs, to be particular. He catches just glimpses of milky skin from between green cloth and black ribbon, just enough to torment him every time he sees it… and every time he hopes to and doesn’t.

*****

When Thor is in this mood, he likes to hurry back to their hall, and Loki likes to walk slowly to tease him. So Loki takes his time walking back tonight, expecting to be sped along by an eager Thor, or at least dragged behind a pillar for frenzied kisses, but none of that happens. Yet Thor’s dark eyes and quick breathing tell well where his thoughts are. The whole thing is equal parts perplexing and arousing.

When they return to their chambers, Thor kisses him lightly as he unbuttons Loki’s shirt and slides it off. Loki, still unsure of what’s going on, follows Thor’s lead, easing him more quickly out of shirt, boots, and breeches, until he is standing, half-dressed, before a naked Thor.

Who then kneels before him, nuzzling his face into Loki’s stiffening cock, before sliding his hands up the outsides of Loki’s legs and begins to unlace the breeches completely.

“Thor,” Loki interrupts him, a little annoyed. “They don’t have to be all the way undone, it takes forever to relace them. If you take my boots off first, the leggings just need to be loosened.”

Thor sits back on his heels, looks up at Loki. “I’ll relace them,” he promises. Right before burying his face between Loki’s legs, licking and sucking on his balls as Loki’s cock bobs against his face. Loki doesn’t argue any more after that, as Thor finishes unlacing them and draws them away, until Loki is standing before him in nothing but his boots.

The same ones Thor had tried to kiss, once before, when Loki stopped him. The time hadn’t been right, then, not when he had been overwhelmed with just learning who Loki really was. But now he knows, and Loki won’t stop him this time (though he cleans them with a flick of seiðr while Thor’s not looking; there’s no need to choose between hygiene and pleasure). Thor looks at him questioningly, and Loki smiles and nods to him. _It’s all right, now_.

Thor kneels and lowers his head reverently. He presses his lips to the toe of one boot, holding it there a moment before repeating it on the other foot. Loki watches as the gorgeous body shifts slowly as Thor kisses all over his feet, up his ankles, back down to his toes, and watches, also, the way the tension that had been humming through the muscles slowly eases.

“I adore you, Loki,” he finally murmurs against one arch. “Tell me how to adore you.”

Loki’s cock stiffens, unimaginably, further, and really what he’d like is to bend Thor double and pound into him, but when he looks at Thor’s face, the same longing is still there, not yet fulfilled.

“Talk,” he orders. “Tell me how the leather feels under your lips.”

Thor blushes - strange to blush at this, after what he’s already done, Loki thinks - but his breathing picks up as begins to speak.

“It’s soft,” Thor begins, hesitantly, “much softer than it looks like it would be, not as soft as your skin, but close. And it’s smooth, like warm glass. And I love it, because it protects you.”

He bends down again, kissing the boots in thanks this time, before he looks up at Loki for confirmation. Loki strokes his hair, presses his head against his thigh.

“That was very well done, Thor,” he praises. “I had thought to suggest this one day, but you doing it first…” his voice trails off. He swallows, trying to find the words. “It means much to me. Now get in bed, let me show you how just much it means.”

He does exactly that, coaxing bliss after bliss out of Thor until he is half-delirious. Afterwards, Thor’s face looks sated but still too serious. Loki twirls a lock of hair around his finger, tugs at it affectionately before he speaks.

“What troubles you, Thor? Did you dislike something?”

“No, not at all… but... do you think there is something wrong with me, Loki? To want such things from you at times?”

Loki rolls his head to look at Thor, takes in the tense brow, the unsure set of the lip. He smooths down the soft hair and presses his lips against it.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Thor,” he promises. “You went from having almost no control over your life to godhood in a matter of a week, and while it was kind beyond words of the All-Father to give you such power, it brings with it responsibilities beyond anything you could have imagined. I receive few enough prayers, while you are pelted with them, every time someone wants rain or a clear sky. So if sometimes you want to surrender all that, it is only reasonable. And even if none of that were true,” he continues after a moment of thinking how much mortal Thor had liked being put in his place ( _his place_  generally being trussed into helplessness and fulfilling Loki’s every whim), “if nothing happens that we don’t both enjoy, I don’t see how that would be wrong, either.”

“You’re right,” Thor sighs, snuggling up against him. “I was just raised to be so conscious of rank, and now that I’m-”

Loki cuts him off, not with words, but by letting his skin flare to blue. He looks at Thor with imperious red eyes before speaking.

“Remember, then,” he whispers fiercely, “I am third in line for the throne of Jotunheim. I never relinquished my rights, nor my title.”

Thor finally, finally smiles.

*****

A few weeks later, Thor stands reluctantly from their bed where Loki is sprawled, sated and blissful. Thor is, too - this morning’s activities have been entirely delightful - yet he has a gnawing emptiness as feels the longing start to grow again. He can’t do anything right now, as he’s got a meeting with Tyr, who wants to discuss some strange movements on Svartalfheim, but soon, if Loki is feeling kind. Now he knows how to ask for what he needs, and Loki has always been gracious in letting him explore new things. He dresses quickly and leans over Loki, pressing his lips to the top of his head.

“I’m off to see Tyr,” he says.

“Mmm,” Loki responds as he cranes his neck up for a kiss.

“Will you be here when I get back,” Thor asks, blushing slightly, “my prince?”

Loki smiles. “I will now.” That was by far the closest Thor has ever come to actually requesting something he wants sexually without any prompting from Loki, and he means to make sure that Thor finds it worth the effort.

He watches the chiseled figure leave the room, enjoying the way the simple tunic and leggings cling to the rippling muscles. The moment he hears the outer door latch shut, he is up and at work. Dressing fully. He briefly shifts his skin, as well, but that proves too hot with this outfit. Reshaping his comfortable window chair into a massive throne, all carved dark wood with gold and jewels framing his face. Looking for the book that should be shelved… just around…. _there_. He flips through it, and yes, the pictures are just as delicious as he remembered.

When Thor returns, nervous but eager, Loki sits, relaxed, on a throne. He is wearing his full armor, even his helmet, which Thor has rarely seen on him. He looks terrible and regal, and so beautiful Thor can barely breathe. As Thor sinks to his knees before him, Loki looks up from the book he has been idly paging through.

“Thor,” he smiles, his eyes glittering. “I’ve just been looking at some most engaging illustrations. Why don’t you come join me?” he asks, one hand held out.

Thor rises and starts to climb the dais, but Loki stops him. “Take those things off, first,” he orders. “I’ve seen Tyr’s war rooms, he doesn’t allow the cleaners inside.”

Thor’s stomach tenses. He is used to being naked with Loki, of course, but to be naked while Loki is dressed - and dressed in such a way, no less - is something new. He obeys, though, and approaches.

“Have a seat,” Loki offers, spreading his legs to make it clear that the only seat is between them. Thor sits down carefully, leaning his back against Loki’s chest. His arousal is growing rapidly, his erection an angry red against his glowing skin, already with a creamy drop glistening from the slit.

Loki puts his book into Thor’s hands and takes the gorgeous cock in his own. “Go ahead,” he coaxes. “Have a look.”

_How convenient_ , he thinks, _to have such a delightful barometer of Thor’s interest, right here in his hands_. He’s curious to see how far they make it.

Not far, it turns out. Thor opens the cover, flips quickly past the title page and the introductory texts at the beginning. He groans at the sight of the very first picture, his cock giving a sudden, hungry throb in Loki’s hands.

“You like that, do you?” Loki coos in his ear. He nods, breath growing heavier. “You want that?”

He nods again. Yes, he very, very much does.

“Your words, Thor,” Loki reminds him. “I am a benevolent prince, and I grant what I am asked.”

“I want that,” he stammers. “I want you to do this with me. To me.”

“Then you may have that. But not all at once, I think,” he says, rubbing Thor’s arm affectionately when Thor slumps in disappointment.

“Just not this first time,” he continues. “We’ve never done either of these things before, and if we’re to do this,” he says, pointing at the right side of the page, “I want you able to speak until I have learned your limits. Because I want this too, Thor, very much, but only as much as we both take pleasure from it.”

Thor nods his understanding and smiles shyly as he puts his finger next to Loki’s pointing at the same part of the picture. His smile grows as he feels Loki’s cock throb in response, pressed against his back.

“Get your oil, then,” Loki tells him softly. Thor fetches it quickly, finding, when returns, that the arms of the throne are gone. Anticipation and apprehension war within him, but Loki’s gentle smile soothes his nerves, and he carefully lays down, his lower stomach across Loki’s legs.

The first strikes of Loki’s hand are light, barely more than feathery, as he tests to see if it is the sensation that Thor wants, or simply the idea.

“Good?” Loki asks him. Thor moans and tosses his head in response. “More?”

“Please…” Thor breathes.

Loki’s strikes grow slowly harder. The sounds of skin on skin mix with Thor’s desperate panting. Loki pauses when Thor’s skin begins to glow red, and he is about to ask Thor again how he feels when Thor speaks first.

“There… that. Oh, Loki, that… perfect…” he gasps. Hard enough to sting, not enough to hurt. Loki will remember that.

So Loki continues, ignoring the heat in his own palm as he reaches with his free hand for the bowl of oil sitting on the floor at his side.

Thor bucks when Loki pauses spanking him to slide a finger into his entrance, so exposed and tempting in this position, and twists it a few times before withdrawing and spanking again. He continues on like this, alternating noisy slaps and gentle fingers, until Thor is writhing helplessly on his lap, a slick stream from his cock dampening Loki’s leg.

“Loki, yes, yes, please, now…” he begs. The mix of this stinging - just right, never too much, Loki is so careful with him - with the feeling of being slowly opened has his need building so much that he knows suddenly that it is impossible to die of lust, or he would have by now.

Loki eases Thor off his lap and quickly loosens his armor just enough to ease his erection out from between the layers of leather. Hands on Thor’s hips, he turns him quickly to bend forward, placing Thor’s hands on the seat of the throne, and drives himself home.

Thor cries out, back arching, and spends almost immediately, watching it splatter all over Loki’s throne. Loki had thought to make this last longer, but his arousal was almost as desperate, and he does not want this to grow uncomfortable for Thor, now that he is finished. So Loki lets go of his control and with quick, deep jabs, he coaxes his own pleasure forth, groaning and falling over Thor’s back as he spills inside him.

They remain like that for a few moments, fighting to catch their breath, before Loki stands and draws Thor up with him. “Bed,” he says.

They curl up in bed, Loki’s chest against Thor’s back. Thor is still blushing shyly, and Loki takes pity on him, knowing he’s about to push things even further. First, though, Loki just wants to hold him. Thor’s body is still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm, and likely more, Loki knows. So he holds him, kissing the back of his head and rubbing gentle circles on his belly, making little soothing sounds. Finally, when Thor’s body has lost all its tension and is heavy and drowsy in Loki’s arms, he speaks.

“Thor?”

“Mmm? Yes, Loki?”

“We need to talk about this,” he says.

Thor makes a small pleading noise and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I know you aren’t comfortable talking about such things, but I think we have to, before we do this again. All right?”

Thor nods reluctantly.

“Did you like all of that?”

Thor nods.

“Is there anything you would like done differently next time? How I touched you, how you would like me to touch you? How long I spent on it?”

Thor shakes his head. “No. It was… just right. Just what I wanted,” he whispers.

Loki shifts so that he can kiss Thor’s cheek.

“All right. Next time we can use a gag, then, if you would like.”

“I would.” Thor’s eyes are still closed, but a smile dances across his face.

They slowly drift to sleep, warm in the afternoon sun.


	8. Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short visit to Thor's family reminds Loki how much Thor means to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a kind of crummy day, so instead of working on the train home I wrote this. I hope it makes you as happy to read as it did me to write it.

“Could we go visit Baldr?” Thor and Loki were walking through the forest east of Glaðsheim, and it reminded Thor of home.

“Of course. Would you like to go now?” Loki asks, raising his hand to open a door through the shadows. He should have thought of it himself, but the idea of someone actually wanting to see their brother was still a foreign one to him.

Thor does want to go now, but he remembers the frantic scrambles in the kitchen when unexpected guests arrived. Once, when he was perhaps eight, he had been trying to wheedle a pie out of one of the cooks when the jarl and his entire entourage showed up out of the blue. He had learned many new words that day, words the cooks promptly cautioned him not to tell his parents where he had learned them, not if he ever wanted pie again.

“Tomorrow would be better,” he says reluctantly. “It would be also better if we took food from the kitchens here, since they don’t know we’re coming.”

“Tomorrow then,” Loki agrees, stepping closer to him and lowering his voice. “However shall we keep ourselves busy in the meantime?”

*****

They arrive shortly before the evening meal, after everyone has returned to the house for the day. Thor carries a large hamper to supplement the table. Ljunn is alone in the hall when they arrive and she runs towards them, shrieking in excitement. Thor quickly sets down the basket and holds his arms out, overjoyed that his niece is so happy to see him… only to have her run past him and throw her arms around Loki’s leg.

“Uncle Loki! You came back!” she yells. Her loud voice brings the rest of the family, and Loki’s other leg is instantly seized by Gutmund. Thor’s brief swell of disappointment is erased when he looks at Loki’s face. It is still new and wondrous for him to be among people who are honestly happy to see him. Baldr and Astrid approach more calmly, but they share their children’s smiles.

 “It is good to see you, brother,” Baldr says warmly, putting his arm around Thor’s shoulders.

“And you, Loki. You are always welcome here,” Astrid adds.

“I hoped we might join you for dinner? We brought some things from our kitchens, we don’t want to be a trouble to your cooks.”

“We are most glad to have you. And the hamper was kindly thought - you remember how to make the cooks welcome you as well,” Baldr grins. He carries it to the kitchen as Astrid busies herself getting more plates and cups. The children, in turn, busy themselves with demands that Loki turn blue and chase them.

It is unusual for Thor to be the calm in the midst of such bustle - his only use at the moment being to serve as an obstacle for the children to hide behind as Loki runs after them, gnashing his teeth and talking about how roast Midgardian is one of his favorite dishes - and he savors it. It is relaxing to be in his old home, and joyous to see how warmly Loki has been welcomed into his family.

The cooks used the food from Asgard to make more, smaller, courses than were usual for a midweek meal, and the first one is soon brought to the table.

“Come, sit down, Ljunn, Gutmund,” scolds Astrid. “Your uncle would like his dinner, even if you don’t.”

“But he only eats children, and neither of us has been cooked,” Ljunn giggles.

“That’s because you run too fast for me to catch you,” Loki says, pretending to be out of breath. “I’ll have to make do with this until I get my energy back.”

Astrid casts him a grateful glance as they follow him to the table and insist on sitting on either side of him. Thor grins and takes the seat opposite, giving Loki’s foot an affectionate rub with his own.

“Have you even greeted your uncle Thor?” Baldr asks them suddenly. At their abashed looks, he begins to apologize, but Thor stops him.

“Don’t worry, brother. I remember what it is to have a favorite uncle. Who knows, perhaps Helblindi’s children will prefer me.”

Loki snorts and catches himself just short of sharing his opinions about Helblindi’s revolting offspring. He suspects that Astrid would not appreciate him teaching the little ones some of his more colorful vocabulary. The meal passes slowly, with so many plates to change, and they talk more than they eat. By the time dessert comes out, the children are barely able to hold their eyes open, while the adults feel like they've still just begun their conversation.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” Astrid suggests. “Then we can talk more over breakfast.”

Loki looks at Thor questioningly. Thor nods. “I would like that very much.”

It is a matter of a few brief minutes for Loki to slip back to their hall and collect a few things for the night and the morning, necessities and clean linens taking only a single small bag. While he is away, Astrid directs the servants to set up a bedroll in the hall for Gutmund, so that she and Baldr can take his bed and give their larger one to Thor and Loki.

It is all familiar enough in itself - as the younger son, Thor had himself been the one put in the hall when his parents needed to give their chamber to guests - but it is rather odd to be the guest for whom the room is being emptied. And by his own older brother, no less. He fidgets as he watched the bustle of setting up the thin mattress and sheets. “Perhaps Loki and I might just return in the morning,” he begins uncomfortably, but Astrid cuts him off.

“Please stay. It is our honor as well as our pleasure to have you as guests. If it is too strange to think of us moving for you-” oh yes, she is perceptive, Thor thinks, “-think of us moving for Loki. He’s been a god longer than any of us can remember, and it is only natural for us to give him the best room.”

He assents then. It is good to be here, and it would be good to wake up to the bracing air of the rocky foothills, so different from the balmy breezes of Asgard. Loki is soon back, and a servant is dispatched to take the bag to their chamber for the night.

It is late, though the sun is still out; this time of year they have barely six hours of dark. Everyone knows this, but it is enough for the children to complain when Astrid tells them to get ready for bed.

“Your father and I are going to bed as well,” she points out to them.

“Is Uncle Loki going to bed?” Gutmund asks slyly.

“I am, you’ve worn me out,” he answers with an exaggerated yawn.

“Tell us a story first?”

Baldr interrupts. “Gutmund, he told you he wants to go to bed.”

“But-”

“How about this,” Loki says. “I’ll tell you a story in the morning, so the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you will get your story.”

“Why not both?” Ljunn asks. Loki quells a grin; he doesn’t think her parents would appreciate him encouraging her, but he does find her almost irresistably charming.

“Because you’re best off tucked safely in your bed before I start thinking about a midnight snack,” he answers, letting his eyes glow red.

Astrid casts him a grateful look. He meets it with a wink as Thor takes his hand. “We’d better go before they can come up with another argument,” he says, his thumb lightly stroking Loki’s wrist, butterfly touches that tell Loki the real reason Thor is ready for bed.

“You are a very good uncle,” Thor tells Loki as they close the door to the bedroom.

Loki hums softly and slips his arms around Thor’s waist, pressed their foreheads together. They stand quietly a moment before Thor shifts his head, brings his lips against Loki’s. They kiss lightly as they undress each other and settle into bed. Languid hands coax the beginnings of need, easy and undemanding.

Thor eases Loki onto his back and begins to make his way downwards, sinking his teeth lightly into the delicate skin where the pulse flutters eagerly, licking and kissing at one instantly taut nipple as his fingers pinch and twist the other. Loki gasps and arches his back, pressing up against Thor’s mouth. Thor runs his hand down the pale torso, savoring the softness of the skin and the hardness of the muscle beneath. His palm ghosts over Loki’s cock before his fingertips settle down to explore it. No matter how familiar it has become, each time still bears the wonder of discovery as he traces around the head, across the slit which has just begun to sparkle.

“Thor-” Loki gasps, as he often does. His next words, though, are unexpected. “Look up.”

He raises his head to find that dusk is falling and the fireflies are beginning their evening courtship, floating in and out of the windows and flashing their tiny bolts of lightning. He smiles.

“They are beautiful, are they not? In half an hour, the room will be full of them.”

Loki smiles and presses against Thor’s shoulder, settling him onto the bed as he rises onto his own elbow. “Beautiful, indeed,” he murmurs as he brings his mouth to Thor’s neck, to the spot at the back of his jaw that always elicits the most exquisite reaction. His hand knots in Thor’s hair, possessive. Thor is just beginning to pant when he shifts away to reach for their bag and get the vial of oil within. He has something he wants to try, wants to watch the dancing sparks as they take their pleasures.

Loki watches Thor’s eyes darken with hunger as he coats his cock. They widen in confusion, though, when he spreads it between his legs, then over Thor’s own cock, and puts a second pillow next to Thor’s head. “Trust me, you will like this,” he assures him as he eases down atop Thor, his back pressed against the firm chest, his waist tilted slightly to his right so that his shoulders and head are off slightly, letting his head rest on the pillow rather than on Thor’s face. He reaches down and grasps Thor’s cock to settle it firmly between his thighs, squeezed between his legs and balls.

Thor catches on quickly and reaches down to take Loki’s cock in one broad palm, wrapping his fingers around it. He curls his hips upwards, cock gliding smoothly between Loki’s thighs. It feels different than anything else, cooler, but still tighter than he would have expected. They move together, hips shifting in sync. Thor keeps one hand gently working Loki while the other roams, fingers again taunting his nipples, swirling over his ribcage, outlining his hip bones. Loki holds onto Thor’s leg with one hand, urging him to keep his motions smooth and easy. The other arm stretches up and around, tangling his hand in Thor’s hair as their hearts speed up.

While this feels different, the sounds it makes are familiar, slick smacking wetness so much like when Thor takes Loki into his throat. Unlike then, Thor can breathe easily, and uses his breath to murmur into Loki’s ear, telling him how perfect he feels, the way he squeezes his legs together, the way his muscles coil and ripple under Thor’s hands. They move languidly, almost drowsy in their enjoyment of how the other feels and sounds, vision going hazy with desire.

Loki is aware of Thor’s delicious heat between his legs in a way that he has never noticed with the other ways he has had Thor. It makes him realize, in a new and visceral sense, how very different the two of them are, how much Thor was willing to give up to be with him.  It is thrilling, this reminder that one so unlike himself wants him, loves him, so deeply.  Each time Thor begins to speed up, Loki squeezes his leg, slows him back down. He wants this to last. He savors the warmth, the way Thor’s hips stutter every so often when the head of his cock brushes Loki’s leg just so, how Thor’s breathing hitches when Loki makes him keep this maddening pace. Thor’s hands on him feel worshipful.

Loki comes first, the white stars that his climax always gives him merging with the yellow flashes that dance through the air. He spills over Thor’s hand with a gasp and his entire body goes rigid with the intensity, drawing Thor after him. Thor moans and bucks as his own pleasure coats Loki’s thighs and cock, mats the soft black hair. Thor twines his fingers into Loki’s and they kiss as their breathing begins to slow.

“I love you,” Loki whispers into the near-darkness. This is only the second time he has said the words.

Thor desperately wants to know what inspired such a confession, but he is unwilling to risk breaking this tender, fragile mood that has come upon Loki, so he simply hugs him tight. “I love you, too,” he says.

They lay together and watch the fireflies fill the room.

 

 


	9. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor discovers sugar, and knows exactly what he wants to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted with thanks to dorkylokifan, for reminding me not to neglect my first and still favorite story about these two.
> 
> Enjoy!

Thor gives his dessert a suspicious look as it is set in front of him. He picks up his fork and gingerly stirs the white stuff on top. Why would the cooks put flour on top of cake? Was it an apprentice who didn’t understand the order things were to be added? Even Thor knows the flour goes in before the cake is cooked, and he's never baked anything in his life.

Loki watches him, amused. A part of him is tempted to explain, but this is too delightful. Reliving new discoveries through Thor's eyes never fails to bring him joy, and he grins as Thor raises the fork to his lips and gives it a careful lick.

His eyes grow in pleased surprise. “This flour is sweet! It’s as sweet as honey, but it doesn’t taste of honey.”

“It’s made from the juice of a plant,” Loki explains as Thor starts shoveling the cake into his mouth. “It grows on Midgard, but only in warmer climates than you’ve known. It’s boiled down and made into powder.”

“But it grows here as well?”

“Yes. It’s called sugar. The plant is sugarcane.”

“I like it,” Thor announces. “How do I get it?”

In retrospect, Loki should have known something was up.

*****

Thor is always welcome in the kitchens, of course, with his friendly manner and charming smile. So it is easy for him to wheedle some sugar from the cheerful cook, though he has to do some explaining before he gets what he wants. It turns out there are many kinds of sugar, and while he looks forward to trying them all, the powdery one is what he needs right now.

Getting what he wants from the scribes takes only a bit more work. He supposes he could use some of Loki's, but he doesn't feel right searching through Loki's private things to find it. And the scribes are amenable enough to loaning him some,  once he agrees to buy more to replace it at the next market day.

Then he locks himself away, experimenting until he finds the perfect blend for what he wants to do. He stores it safely in a small jar and buries it in their nightstand, where Loki isn't likely to notice it.

*****

The weather is beautiful, and they spend the evening in the pleasure gardens playing horseshoes with Fandral and Hogun. As the sun sets, Loki notices that Thor is giving him the Eye, the one that says _can we please make our excuses and go back to our chambers now._  Loki smirks and picks up another stack of horseshoes. It is such a delight to tease Thor, to drag out the anticipation and watch as his stares become more and more pointed. So they play another two rounds before Loki yawns and stretches.

"I hope you'll forgive me," he says. "I am rather fatigued this evening, and think I will retire early. Thor, you are welcome to remain, of course."

"No, I'll join you," Thor says, making his farewells to his friends.

Back in their room, Thor works quickly to remove Loki's clothes. He's been practicing, and has nearly everything figured out by now. Loki only has to help with a few of the more confusing straps. "Will you shift for me?" he asks gently.

Loki's eyes are warm, as they always are when Thor asks for this, and he lets his smooth white skin give way to whirled blue. Thor gets his jar out of the stand and opened the top. "You looked so beautiful with this at our wedding," he says, dipping his finger inside.

Loki stands still as Thor traces the golden dust across his swirling scars, highlighting their elegant beauty and the way they accentuate Loki's lean, supple figure. It is paler than Loki's own dust, so he knows Thor must have found some of his own. But it isn't until Thor finishes that Loki realizes why it looks lighter.

Because when Thor finishes dusting over Loki's scars, gilding every inch of the raised skin, he rises to his feet and offeres Loki his finger just as he begins to lick the gold back off. Loki takes the finger into his mouth and smiled in surprise at the taste. The delicate scars that he had so hated before he met Thor, designed by Byleistr to shame him for what he was not, have become things of beauty under Thor's gaze. 

"Darling," Loki breathes. Thor pauses and looks at him, waiting for him to say more, but he just smiles. Thor smiles back and lowers his head to continue, his tongue working gently.

Each day that they are together, Thor has tried to find ways to show his love wordlessly, ways that Loki feels easy about accepting. This is certainly one of the sweetest. 


	10. Learning to Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Loki sits leaning against a tree, keeping his body carefully within the shadow of a huge umbrella he ha s  nestled in the branches. He holds a sweating glass full of half-frozen juice in one hand  and a book in the other. Every few minutes he has to re-freeze his drink with a glare. Doubles of Thor stand naked, fanning him from both sides.

Despite the atrocious sun, Thor is running back and forth through the long field where he likes to practice with Mjölnir, his golden hair flopping about in a way that, if the weather and Loki’s mood were better, would look ridiculously adorable. Loki sighs and slams his book shut. He knows it is just the heat making him peevish, but knowing it never helps with his mood any.

Thor is still learning how to work with his hammer, now that she is aware, still learning how the two of them can best communicate. He’s always thrown her rather well, and he’s gotten reasonably good at calling her to his hand. That’s what he’s practicing now - throwing her one way, then taking off some other direction and summoning her as he runs. He’s excited about being able to actually  _tell_  her where, exactly, to fly, but he’s not there yet. In fact, that is why they are here, so far away from anything breakable. That was something learned the hard way. Loki had spent four days exhausting his seiðr, cleaning up from Thor’s earlier attempts.

“Oh, Thor,” he calls sweetly, waving his fingers.

Thor bounds over to him. “Loki?”

_What_  a sight Thor is. Loki has to admit it, even in his bad mood. Shirtless, glowing gold and perfectly sculpted, a sheen of sweat making him look even more delicious… Loki forces his mind back to his plan. It’s far too hot for other things.

“I was just thinking about how you might improve with Mjölnir,” he says. “You are able to communicate better when she is in your hand, yes?”

“Right…”

“Well, what if you held on to her as you threw her?”

Thor stares at him blankly. Loki stifles a sigh.

“Surely you know you can fly  _with_ her, don’t you?”

Thor’s eyes widen.

“ Odin made her uru. That’s a powerful metal. What if you try throwing her, but don’t let go?”

“You think that will work?” he asks doubtfully.

“It certainly seems worth a try.”

So he does, and it is. When he comes to a stop, he picks himself up, dusts himself off, and picks long blades of grass from his teeth, beaming all the while. 

"You were right!" he shouts excitedly, and they take off again, far too low to the ground, before Loki has a chance to reply.

When Thor digs himself happily out of the side of a hill, Loki is standing there waiting for him, a Thor double looking jealously at Mjölnir while it holds up Loki's umbrella. "What if you aim _upward_?" he suggests.

"I'm going to, but I want to get the feel of it all a little better first," Thor explains. It's reasonable enough that Loki stands, sweating, watching Thor's next attempt, in which he takes out several trees and emerges scratched but cheerful. "I think I really learned a lot that time. It's all in the focus," he says. And indeed, his next try, he skims along perfectly above the surface of the ground, never touching it, never hitting anything, until he lands on his feet in front of Loki.

"That was very good," Loki praises, throwing his arms around Thor's neck. Thor looks rather confused - Loki tends to avoid more physical types of affection when it's this hot - until Loki speaks again. "Take me up. It's cool up there."

Thor grins and wraps one arm around Loki's waist, swinging the other upwards and they're off. Loki has only flown on his own wings before, and it is thrilling to feel the world slip away effortlessly. They pass quickly out of the hot air that hugs the ground, up into the cooler currents where the clouds puff cool dew upon their skin. 

Thor tilts his head forward and kisses him. “Did you just think of this?” he asks.

“ Mmm. No, I came up with it about a week ago,” Loki says.

“A week. You made me go through that for a week?”

“Thor. You broke eight thousand, two hundred and nine windows, and I'm the one who had to fix them. ”

"That many? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

"Oh... perhaps glass works much like ice? You're magnificent with ice."

Loki _means_  to narrow his eyes, but it's difficult. He knows Thor is trying to butter him up, but compliments are hard to resist,is magnificent with ice. But Thor can hardly expect to get out of this that easily, not when Loki is magnificent with... other things as well. "Stay focused," he warns with a look of distinct self-satisfaction, sliding his hand beneathThor's clothes.


	11. Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's still learning all the things Loki can do. Some are more unsettling than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait, especially with how short this chapter is. I have a follow-up in the works, though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Thor?” Loki asks one morning as they are curled together, just barely awake.

“Mmmm?” Thor mumbles, groggy.  
  
“Do you ever miss being with women?”  
  
Thor frowns a moment, processing the question. A wave of realization and hurt washes over him, and he is suddenly awake as shoves himself away from Loki. Loki looks at him, perplexed.  
  
“You want to bring others to our bed? Loki… I did not expect this. I want no one but you,” Thor says, fighting with the blankets to get up, away from Loki. He knew that there would be fights, eventually, but this was hardly how he expected the first one to start.  
  
“No… _no_ , Thor!” Loki says, reaching out to take his arm. “Nothing like that. I have no interest in bringing others to our bed. Well, except doubles, but you seem to like that.”  
  
Thor pauses, body tensed and stiff. “What do you mean by such a question, then,” he asks warily.  
  
“It’s a simple enough transformation,” Loki explains. “Would you like to see? Only if you want.”  
  
Thor thinks a moment, and then slowly nods, his body still tense.  
  
Loki lays back on the bed, uncovered, and smiles at Thor as his body shifts. Most of the change is subtle, his waist narrowing and hips flaring, small breasts budding. His sex, though, makes Thor’s eyes widen. The proud cock is gone, leaving in its place a patch of black curls, thicker than it was before.  
  
He continues to smile, outwardly patient, as Thor slowly takes it in. After a few minutes in which Loki’s heart beats harder and harder, until it feels like it might burst from his chest, Thor gently pulls at one knee, drawing his legs apart to look between them. Thor’s wide eyes rise to meet Loki’s.  
  
“You may touch, if you want,” Loki tells him.  
  
“I think, perhaps, another time,” Thor says. “Would you change back now?”  
  
Loki nods and shifts back, pulling Thor down into his arms.  
  
“I’m sorry, darling,” he says, stroking Thor’s hair. “I didn’t know it would affect you like that, or I wouldn’t have asked.”  
  
“It’s all right,” Thor says, though he sounds like he’s not entirely sure whether it is or not. “I don’t know why it is. I’ve seen you shift colors often enough, I’ve even seen you turn into a bird… I don’t know. I need time to think?” he finishes, looking anxiously at Loki.  
  
Loki kisses his forehead. “That’s fine.”  
  
*****

Thor brings it up a few days later.  
  
“Loki, when you’ve… shifted, can you have children?” he asks, unsure of whether or not he wants to hear the answer.  
  
“I can, but I can also decide not to,” Loki explains. “It depends on how fully I shift.”  
  
Thor nods thoughtfully.  
  
“Do you want children?” Loki asks hesitantly.  
  
“I never even thought about it before,” Thor says. “I just grew up knowing it would never be a part of my life. So now I don’t even know.”  
  
Loki smiles. “That’s fine,” he says. “You don’t have to know.”  
  
*****

“Later,” Thor says abruptly.  
  
Loki looks up from his soup, confused.  
  
“I think I would like children later,” Thor says. “But for now, I would like it to just be us.”  



	12. Harvest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor and Loki sneak away from the Harvest festival and have their own personal celebration. Or, Jotun!Loki sexy time in which they throw away the key and go at it until they pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An *appallingly* late gift for august_jane, to whom I promised this so long ago that I'm sure she thinks I forgot, if she even remembers it herself. I didn't forget, it just turns out that I have a hard time writing porn in the present tense when it's more than something very brief. As in, I've been working on this since July. I ended up writing it in past tense and then going through and changing it all. 
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait!

Thor’s careful attention to the weather results in one of the most successful harvests Asgard has ever seen, and the feast to celebrate it is huge and joyously raucous. So much so that no one notices when Loki takes Thor’s arm and guides him away, back to their hall.

“What’s going on, Loki?” Thor asks as the door closes behind them.

“I found a new spell for us to try, and I don’t really feel like waiting.”

“A new spell? What kind?”

Loki just looks at him, eyes glistening.

"Oh. That kind. You've already cast it, haven't you?"

"Indeed. And I believe it is beginning to take effect." As he notices how his breath has begun to speed up, he adds, "yes, definitely."

"How strong is it?" Thor asks.

"Quite strong. I didn't want to waste our time."

"Just how much time would that be?" Thor stops in the doorway to their bedroom, staring firmly.

"Only two days," Loki says offhandedly.

"Two days?" Thor's eyes pop. "And tell me, _exactly_  how strong will it be?"

"Strong enough to not do anything else, if I cast it properly. We'll be stiff as trees, and I'll likely lose control of my seiðr. You might not be able to lift Mjolnir, either. Best make sure you leave her somewhere good."

"So two days in our chambers, completely helpless?"

"Yes, basically. Oh, this _will_  be fun."

"And do we have food enough?"

"I was just about to get that. Don't worry about anything, Thor." Loki winks as he slips into the shadows and away. Despite his show of glibness, he has picked up on Thor’s sense of urgency, and he is beginning to wonder if maybe a briefer time would have been sufficient. So when he gets to the kitchens, he uses his tongue at its utmost silver to convince the kitchen staff to load him down with whatever is nearest and quickest.

Thor pauses to think. Loki has been half-teasingly suggesting various places throughout the palace for them to have sex - in Frigga's gardens, across a table in the feast hall, and once, horrifyingly, he'd tried to tug Thor towards _Hliðskjálf_  itself, laughing as Thor turned as red as beets. He wonders if, once the spell takes full effect, he'll still have his typical restraint? It seems unlikely. So he hurries through their hall to the door leading out into the rest of Glaðsheim and turns the shining key in the lock where it has rested, waiting and unused, since the day they arrived here.

He takes the key back to their bedroom and leans over the balcony, taking careful aim before dropping it into a dense bush. It will be safe there, unnoticed, until Loki has regathered his seiðr enough to retrieve it. Better than risking the two of them wandering in a delirium of lust, seeking new places in which to sate themselves. He has just let go when Loki returns, carrying a board laden with plates and bowls, along with a pitcher for water.

Thor makes space on their small table and Loki sets it down. His eyes glitter as he turns to Thor. “Now then. I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

And then he is on Thor, his clutching hands and demanding lips igniting Thor’s own eagerness. There is no way he will ever get used to the feel of Loki undressing him. Even after centuries, the feel of those cool hands slipping along his skin, easing away the fabric, will still give him shudders of excitement. By the time his tunic is off, his heart is racing. Loki purrs as Thor attacks the buttons of his shirt. There are far, far too many for his taste. He brings his mouth to Loki’s throat, savoring the feel of the frantic pulse under his tongue.

“Blue,” he murmurs into the delicate skin. “Please.” Thor has been asking for this more and more often, and Loki can never get enough of how he looks at Loki's true form and sees only beauty and love.

It is the first time that Thor has felt, rather than seen, Loki shed his glamor. The skin under his lips grows cooler and ever so slightly smoother. Except for the long scars that so beautifully grace his figure; those are rough. Sensitive, though, despite their roughness, and Loki moans softly as Thor runs his tongue along the curlicue circling a nipple.

"I love you, Loki, I love you," he says as his hands make quick work of the rest of Loki's clothes, and as much as he loves to drag things out, savoring every second of anticipation, he can't, not now, and he sinks to his knees.

Loki's cock is stiff and proud as he runs his lips over it, shifting his head so that it rubs against every inch of his face before he parts his lips and takes it in. When Loki says his name it is barely more than a breath of air, and the intensity makes him dizzy as he works his way down, finally burying himself in soft black curls. In this form, Loki smells of ice and crisp clear air, and Thor wishes he could roll in the scent, letting it blanket his skin.

Thor’s mouth is as loving as his words as he moves, sliding back to suck at the head while tracing delicate patterns with his tongue and then shifting forwards again, taking him in deeply. The broad flat of his tongue caresses the entire length as he swallows, over and over, the even pulls hot and demanding. Loki twines one hand into Thor’s hair, the other bracing against Thor’s shoulder as his legs grow weak, and Thor wraps his arms around him, hands firm against Loki’s ass to support him. Loki can relax, then, and let the delirious swirls of pleasure weaken his muscles, knowing that Thor will never let him fall. He watches through heavy lids as full red lips move back and forth over him.

Thor can feel the exact moment Loki hits the point of inevitability, his whole body trembling and his cock beginning to throb, swelling somehow further against Thor’s lips. His fingers grow tense as Thor sucks harder, making soft sounds of encouragement deep in his throat. Loki’s breath harshens, ragged panting giving way suddenly to desperate moans as his hips buck forward and then he is wrecked with spasms as he spills his pleasure down Thor’s throat.

Thor swallows each burst and the greedy tugs send Loki even higher as the tension coiled deep within surges free, shattering his vision into a thousand crystalline stars, each one of them as golden as the precious form clutching him close. When he finishes, Thor leans back to smile up at him happily, a glimmer of white pearled on his lower lip. Thor’s eagerness to please, his frank delight in Loki’s enjoyment of their bodies together, never fails to give Loki a surge of tenderness. He puts his hand affectionately against Thor’s cheek as he gathers himself back to stand on still-shaking legs.

Thor stays on his knees and watches Loki cross to the bed, his eyes devouring the lean grace with which Loki always moves. They widen as Loki stretches out on his stomach, a small pillow tucked under his hips. He cushions his cheek on his folded hands and looks back over his shoulder, his eyes burning with an intensity that has nothing to do with their color. He bends one leg at the knee and beckons to Thor with a twitching foot. Thor stands, drugged by the sight and the promise of what is to come. Loki's legs are spread just enough to part delicious blue orbs, casting a hint of shadow between them and hiding the treasure within.

These moments, when Loki welcomes Thor into himself, are rare and precious. Not that Thor minds, of course - Loki is far too skilled and considerate a lover to ever find anything less than bliss in his arms – but Thor values the trust and intimacy of these times and holds them close to his heart.

He stares far too long. The spell is every bit as powerful as Loki had hoped, and his release did nothing to quell his body’s demands. “Come _on_ , Thor,” he says. “What else do I have to do?”

Thor might have to be told, but he doesn’t have to be told twice. He moves forward and drops to his knees between Loki’s legs. This close, he suddenly realizes his own urgency, and leans forward to sink his teeth lightly into one perfect cheek.

“Can you still do the preparation spell?” he asks, his lips hot against Loki’s skin.

Loki reaches out for his seiðr. He can sense it, through a haze of lust, but it’s too far out of reach. He shakes his head _no_. "You're going to have to," he says.

The soft desperate sound that Thor makes as he crawls higher up the bed to get the vial of oil makes Loki harden enough that he's beginning to regret this offer, but then Thor is back, kneeling behind him again, and slippery hands coax him open. Thor's hands are rougher than Loki's. Not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to be reminded of the differences between them even when he is laying in a way that does not let him see their contrasts.

Loki's entrance is framed by Thor's hands as he holds the soft cheeks open. It is tight and blue, and the realization that it will be neither of these things when Thor has finished sends a bolt of lightning straight to his core. It will be fucked loose and purple, with a pearly sheen of seed smeared across. Thor leans forward to lick at it gently, probing with his tongue and savoring the sharp gasp Loki makes in response.

Thor grins at the impatience in Loki's voice when he speaks. "Thor, that's lovely, really, but right now I need - _oh_ -"

Thor looks at the thick finger that had slid smoothly in, cutting off Loki's words. It is glorious, to see his golden skin disappearing into the rich blue, and he could look forever were it not for the knowledge that his cock will look even better. He works his finger gently, coaxing the tight ring to relax and open for him, his eyes growing heavy as he watches it move with him like it doesn't want to let him go.

If it wants more, more is what it shall have. Thor eases his finger out, and when he next presses back in, there are two. He quickly adds more oil in response to Loki's hiss. The extra slickness makes the stretch easy, and he twists his fingers, opening and scissoring to help ready the furled muscle to receive him. Thor leans down and runs his tongue down the length of Loki's inner thigh as he continues to work his opening. Loki tastes of promises and he follows where they lead, down and between until he's carefully taking first one heavy ball, then the other, in his mouth, and sucking at them gently. Here he tastes of snow and icy green grapes and Thor licks and licks, savoring Loki's ragged breathing as much as the delicate skin beneath his tongue.

By the time Thor has worked him to taking four fingers, Loki is lurching back against him with each thrust, his hips lifted off the supporting pillow and his aching cock dragging against it. He feels the bed shifting behind him, and then Thor's hands are free, one holding his cheeks apart and then the head of his cock is _there_ , making its gentle incessant demands until it is in, and Thor stopped pressing forward as he takes both cheeks in his hands again, and Loki can feel his eyes on him, on where they meet.

Loki had promised him, once, that he would make doubles and they could watch them fucking, see everything that was hidden by bodies or by the blindness of lust, but he hadn't yet done it. So Thor has to take these rare and precious moments to tuck them away in his memory. It is beautiful to see how Loki's body opens to receive him, the furled ring stretching into smoothness as Thor's reddened cock slides deeper.

"Oh, _Loki_ ," he breathes as he presses inward.

It is impossible not to moan when Thor sounds like this, Loki thinks. To hear the love nestled within the desire, each one fueling the other, and all of it urging Thor to fuck, to please and be pleased as their bodies move together. Even with all the careful preparation, Thor still feels huge, the thick head dragging deliciously through his passage. Once he is fully in, he settles forward, one hand on the pillow next to Loki's head, bracing himself, while the other slides around, fingers nestling between the delicate ribs before spreading out across his chest to hold them tight together. Thor keeps them pressed like this as he eases back, almost all the way out, close enough to make Loki buck his hips back to keep him inside.

Thor leans down, his voice no more than air in Loki's ear. "I'm going to make you come so hard you can't see straight," he breathes.

Loki makes a soft pleading sound in response, cutting off in the middle as Thor drives suddenly back in. He digs his fingers into the sheets, scrabbling helplessly for purchase, for _something_  to hold on to as Thor threatens to overwhelm him.

Thor smiles down at the smooth dark hair as he stills and shifts back to kneeling, still holding them together. And then his hands are curled around Loki's hips, pulling him up to meet each thrust. It’s twice as fast now, with both of them moving together. The intensity grows almost searing as the room echoes with the slap of skin on skin, perfumed with the heady scent of arousal and fresh clean sweat.

Loki's face and chest are pressed into the bed, only his hips raised up high. It feels savage, their lust a living primal thing that offers pleasures beyond mind or memory. Thor moves like a storm in summer, full of wind and majesty as he drives in harder. His thrusts are relentless, bordering on unhinged, but Loki can hear no thunder outside. Thor is still in control of his strength, pouring all his power not into the world but into Loki, and it is glorious, this divine hammering he’s receiving, and he knows he’s going to come the second one of them touches his cock, but he’s not ready to be done yet, not ready to be done with this excruciating pleasure.

As Thor's climax draws demandingly close – as is Loki’s, to judge by the heady sounds he is making - he realizes that there is only one thing missing to make this perfect. He pulls out, laughing breathily at Loki's choked gasp of loss, and flips him over, driving back inside just as his back hits the mattress. He crawls slowly up the bed, looming over Loki and making him curl his hips upwards to match Thor's shifting position, until Thor is once again thrusting straight down. Loki makes soft pleading noises each time Thor plunges into him, echoing through the room and urging Thor on, wanting nothing more than to make Loki love every second of this.

They usually climax together, but Thor holds himself back this time as he reaches down between them, wanting to fully experience Loki's pleasure without the distraction of his own. And Loki orgasms so _beautifully_. One second he is writhing deliciously around Thor’s cock and within Thor’s hand and the next he is frozen, his back arched impossibly, his eyes squeezed tight and mouth thrown open.  
  
Thor holds himself back just long enough to see the first throes cross Loki's face before it's too much, Loki's passage spasming around him irresistibly and then he is coming too, sharp bursts of pleasure driving him onward, even harder, as he spills.

Loki finishes in time to watch the end of Thor's orgasm. He looms above, massive arms and cascading golden hair blocking out the rest of the world, so that he and his gasps and his warm blue eyes are all that exist.

When Thor finally collapses down onto his forearms with a smile he is quite sure looks idiotic, Loki stretches up to meet him with a kiss.

"You can pull out now," he suggests. Thor huffs a quiet laugh and shifts himself upwards and out, feeling a rush of his spill follow. Not all, though; he came too hard, too long, for that to be all of it. So Loki is still filled, wet and slick and hot and white inside and by the time he finishes realizing that he's already growing hard again. When Loki presses on one shoulder to shift him off and onto his back, he is more than happy to do as he is urged.

It's already so close to _too much_  when Loki shifts to his side and drags his finger through the creamy puddle on his stomach before reaching downward for Thor’s opening. Thor can feel himself quivering and fluttering at the touch, and Loki pauses to draw wet teasing circles, leaning down to lick gently at that spot behind Thor's ear that always leaves him helpless with lust. It feels even better now, amplified by the spell. When Loki's finger presses in, cool and slick with his own pearly spend, Thor cries out at the thought as much as at the feel.

Thor takes him so beautifully, Loki thinks. Always so, so beautifully. The tight pink ring grips and pulls as he draws back, not wanting to let go. He slides his finger all the way out so he can watch it go in again, savoring that perfect moment when something tightly closed opens to him. He slowly presses it back in. Thor's breath catches as he is entered, the sound gorgeously erotic. Once fully in, Loki twists and curls, teasing at the sensitive patch that makes Thor buck his hips. Then he returns to pumping it gently in and out until the grasp relaxes, and the next time he presses in, it is with two fingers.

Loki feels almost unbearably perfect inside him, the greater stretch enhanced by the gentle spread of his fingers each time he draws back, _so_ patiently working Thor open despite his own (thick, gorgeous, delicious) visible need.

"Please, Loki," he gasps. "More." Loki's smile at his words goes straight to his cock, and he can feel it beginning to drip on his stomach as Loki enters him with three fingers. And _that_ \- oh _yes_ , it's good - is so nearly too much, too soon, and it's all he can do just to wrap his head around it. Loki begins to speed up, driving into him incessantly. It's the first time any part of him other than his luscious violet cock has shown his own urgency.

Loki finds that despite having climaxed twice in quick succession, it is indeed growing difficult to restrain himself, to fight back the urge to bury himself _now_ and let his cock finish the stretching. Even worse, he knows Thor would welcome it, would surge upwards to receive him whatever discomfort it might bring. So he forces his mind to conquer his instincts just a little bit longer, well aware that they have far too much more ahead of them to let Thor grow sore this soon. And it is a battle, what with Thor’s fevered moans of _yes, Loki, so good_  and _don’t stop… harder_  threatening to overwhelm him.

So he keeps gently twisting and curling, scissoring and sliding, and Thor keeps moaning and begging and that doesn’t help at all with trying to be patient, but finally the tight muscle has relaxed enough that patience can be abandoned. Thor's ring is so pulled open that it has gone almost white. Watching it flare to red as Loki draws away is electric. The sight when Loki presses his violet cock in, stretching it back to white, is even more so. Loki pauses with just the head inside, savoring the contrast between them. It is hypnotic to see his length prepared to press inward, the anticipation as thick and heady as jasmine.

When Loki can't hold himself back any longer, he stays on his knees, watching mesmerized as he glides in. He moves evenly and slowly, wanting this to last forever. Thor feels so _alive_ , his whole body thrumming with vivid life around and beneath Loki. He is always like this when they join together, so fully and completely present in everything he does, and Loki wants that, craves it, and he presses in deeper searching for the secret. This is the only place he ever finds it.  
  
Thor tries to wrap his legs around Loki's back, once he's fully buried within, but Loki stops him. He curls his hands around the backs of Thor's knees and presses one up to his chest and the other open to the side. It feels a little strange, and more than a little difficult to balance, but when Loki eases back and thrusts in again, the position makes Loki feel _massive_ , and he hits _just right_ , and by the third thrust he's panting and gasping and begging and not thinking at all about such mundane things as balance, not with the divine sensations of Loki moving within him.

Loki leaves his hands on Thor's legs as he drives into him, holding him at once up and open, groaning when Thor clenches down on him. Thor's head is thrown back, his mouth in a silent cry as though frozen, and he has apparently decided to move the one thing he still can. He squeezes and relaxes in such rapid succession that it feels like his passage is rippling, milking Loki's cock with greedy muscles.

Thor struggles for enough air in a room that feels filled with honey. He's so close, and Loki's quiet words, _yes, yes Thor, you feel amazing, so tight and hot, perfect_ , aren't helping him hold back, and he _wants_ to come, Loki is taking him so deliciously to the dizzying heights, but he also wants this to last forever. Nothing in all the realms can ever come close to this, this impossible blend of need and want and love and lust, and Loki just keeps gliding into him deliciously, until it's too close to stop now, the tightly coiled tension buried in his belly rising up his spine to explode into his mind, and he can't think enough to continue milking, and he just squeezes and holds tight, Loki's cock setting off every nerve ending into ecstasy.

"Not yet, Thor," Loki tells him. His voice is rich and raw and it makes holding back his climax even more difficult, but he grits his teeth and _just_ manages to hold himself together as Loki thrusts into him harder, each rough drive as stuttering and ragged as his breathing as he reaches down between them and grasps at Thor's aching cock and tells him _now, come for me now_ , and it is so easy to do as he is told, just let go and join Loki as they come together, Thor's own hot spend spattering across Loki's stomach as Loki fills him.

Thor's cries of pleasure are intoxicating, filling the room just as Loki fills him so that they blend together, their separate climaxes becoming one somehow as Thor's body is wracked with waves shuddering through and within him. His spend is almost too hot on Loki's jotun skin, thick and shining and clinging where it hits. Loki releases his legs and then everything is moving, beneath him, around him, Thor writhing helplessly everywhere except where they meet, their hips frozen together, the eye of the storm surging all its power outward.

Loki finally collapses forward, his chest pressed against Thor's, his head nestled in the crook of Thor's neck. Thor has gone still beneath him except for the huge shuddering gasps that fill his lungs. And right there, too close to resist, is Thor's pulse, fluttering rapidly beneath his golden skin. Loki reaches his tongue out and licks at it.

The feeling of Loki's cool tongue on his throat helps Thor gather himself back together after being so exquisitely taken apart. He realizes that Loki is still buried within, his erection showing no sign of lessening despite his own peak.

"Done?" Loki asks him, his breath dancing across Thor's wet skin.

Thor tries to answer, but finds that he can't quite talk just yet. The spell is still coursing through his veins with no sigh of surcease, and he shakes his head _no_.

Loki grins down at him, powerful and feral. "Good," he says, rising up.  
  
*****

They sleep for three days straight, and wake up groggy. Loki’s legs are still tangled with Thor’s, as though they haven’t moved an inch.

“You could have given me _some_  warning,” Thor says sleepily.

“That wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun,” Loki answers. “Do you mind?”

Thor stretches and laughs before pulling Loki close to kiss him. “It would have been more convenient, but... you wouldn't be Loki, then, would you?"

"Definitely not," Loki agreed, his hand creeping downward.

"Really? Again?"

"Mmm-hmm."


End file.
